


A First Time for Everything

by engine



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Masturbation, except gokudera has a crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-21
Updated: 2008-06-21
Packaged: 2019-09-28 20:28:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17189861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engine/pseuds/engine
Summary: Gokudera, figuring a few things out.





	A First Time for Everything

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on LJ.

Gokudera wasn't really sure how he'd ended up in this position.

He was fairly sure all that he was doing was cooking, when Yamamoto had called him. The conversation at been short, something along the lines of "What the fuck do you want, idiot?" and "Hahahaha you're so funny Gokudera! I can't wait to see you in school tomorrow!" before the dolt had hung up. There was nothing special about the phone call (aside from the fact that it had, you know, happened) so--

Why had his stupid comment about _looking forward to seeing him_ not left his head?

And thinking about it-- how Yamamoto wanted to see him, that is-- had led to one thing, and that lead to another, and the next thing he knew Gokudera was sporting an erection and utterly and completely embarrassed and confused. How the fuck was he supposed to deal with _this_ , emotionally _and_ physically? Well, actually, he kind of knew how to do it physically, because, you know, most guys did, but he had been thinking of, of all people, _Yamamoto_. Not some hot chick with big tits or anything, just the stupid baseball idiot he saw every day.

_Fuck._

And so here he was, sitting awkwardly on his bed, staring at his lap, fixing his erection with a Very Angry Expression, willing it to _just go away_. Because if it did, he wouldn't have to think about it. Or deal with it. Or imagine Yamamoto's hands against his sides, and--

 _Fucking shit_. This was definitely not a good sign.

Groaning, he laid down on the bed, staring dejectedly at the ceiling. He had a couple of choices: the first was to take a cold shower, hope it went away, and pretend like nothing happened. The second was to get this over with quickly and pretend like nothing happened. And considering how much it was, well, starting to hurt, Gokudera was beginning to wonder if it would really be such a bad idea. You know, just this once, and never again. Get it out of his system, or whatever.

He felt his face flush in embarrassment as he moved his hands down to his belts, unbuckling them with shaking hands and throwing them to the ground. The button and zipper on his pants were difficult, for some reason that Gokudera refused to admit to himself, but he finally got them undone, pulling them off and tossing the pants to the ground as well. Swallowing heavily (oh god he'd never done this, never _had_ to, and now look at him) he slipped a hand into his boxers, tentatively touching himself.

It wasn't like he'd imagined. It was _better_. Sure, he was confused as fuck, but it felt _good_. His mind shut off, refusing to think about anything other than the really embarrassing: Yamamoto. The only person he could think of was Yamamoto. He tried to bring up images of girls he saw on TV or in magazines but it was impossible. All he could see was dark hair, brown eyes, he could hear his laugh, his voice; he moved his hand, imagining it was _Yamamoto's_ hand, imagining what Yamamoto would be saying, how he would probably kiss his neck and whisper something stupid in his ear about how pretty he was or something, because he always did that at the _worst_ moments--

His mind fizzled out at that point, vision going white and a sharp gasp slipping out as he climaxed, gripping at the blanket with his free hand. He shuddered, eyelids heavy, breathing somewhat ragged, not thinking about anything at all. Never having experienced the afterglow before, Gokudera simply lay there, content and pleasantly buzzing with residual pleasure.

And then it all kind of sunk in.

"Fucking _shit_!" he yelled, pulling his hand out of his boxers and jumping off the bed quickly, making a beeline for the bathroom. A shower was necessary. A very, very cold shower. A shower that would make him forget all about Yamamoto, forget all about the scenario that replayed in his head, that was already making him hard again, even though only a few minutes had passed. "Shit shit shit shit," he repeated like a mantra, stripping and hopping into the shower.

Tomorrow was definitely going to be more awkward than normal. Yeah. Definitely awkward.


End file.
